If you really want to, you can

I had the pleasure of talking with a local lawyer a couple of days ago at a real estate open house that my job obliged me to attend. She had pointed out her conveyancing secretary to me and mentioned that all of her staff are single mothers because she went through her adult life and law school as a single mother and she wants to help others out where she can. I was intrigued and asked her a few questions. Turns out she decided, at 39, that she wanted to be a lawyer. She had no money, a couple of kids and she was approaching middle age, but by 45 she hung her shingle out and she is now a successful lawyer. I told her I long for the day when I too can go to University and get my degree, preferably in law. She said, "If you really want to, you can. If I did it, anyone can do it." She's right, of course. What an inspiring, wonderful woman.

I told Mr X about my conversation with this lawyer and he reminded me that the last time someone said those words to me I left my minimum wage job, sold my car and went to college. It was so very difficult (I was raising 2 kids with absolutely no money) but I was successful and I never looked back. I know I can do anything if I put my mind to it. Now, to get my mind to it. I must begin the investigation process and see how to make it doable. Lucky for me, this time I have Mr X behind me, and he is very supportive. But I'm still afraid. Life is so comfortable right now, but I know it can only get better.

Speaking of comfort, tomorrow I'm going to move into my new office. I'm still waiting for my new desk, which is scheduled to arrive in two weeks, but my computers are set up on the existing desks and I spent a few hours in there on Friday. One whole wall is windows and it's so refreshing after staring at a wall for the past 6 years. I'm a bit afraid of resentment from the other legal assistants, some of whom have been there years longer than I have, because I'll be the only one in an office. But I'm the one who was willing to take on the most difficult desk in April when the previous conveyancing secretary retired, so I hope it's okay. I also work completely independently so I really don't need anyone else around to do my job.

On a completely different note, I'm going to copy a portion of a post here that I wrote in a message board today. I want to save it because it meant a lot to me as I was writing it. It was in reply to someone who is questioning her faith because she has recently lost someone and is having trouble believing in a God who allows bad things to happen to good people. I don't know if what I wrote will mean anything to her, but I've struggled with my faith too, and this is a summary of what I came out of the struggle with:

I began to type this reply about an hour ago when the phone rang. It was my mum with the report that her beloved sister died, just this morning. My mum believes that Auntie Edith has gone home. She finds peace in that, and I am so grateful that she does. My mum has lost her parents, her husband, three sisters, two brothers and, just a couple of weeks ago, her best friend, among many other profound losses and struggles she has had to endure in her life.

My mum is old, and has the faith of the pioneers who struggled to make this country habitable many years ago. I envy that faith. Their losses had to have been as profound as our losses are today. Imagine moving to the wilds of Canada in the 1800s with no family, no money, nothing to fall back on. Your wagon goes down in the river, taking with it everything you own, including the mule that was supposed to help you plow out a farm. Then you lose a child or two or maybe your husband. Where do you drag faith up out of that? But they did. It was the one thing that drew them together -- the little churches that always sprang up when a few families homesteaded near each other. I totally envy that kind of faith. The faith that didn't expect God to be some kind of a Santa Claus, there to grant wishes and make everything happy, but instead looked to Him as the One that could provide guidance and peace in spite of what life brought them.

Sometimes I think that in this age of wisdom we have become above faith. That, to me, is a tragedy. There is a Bible verse my dad used to quote that says, "Professing to be wise they became fools". We have minimized God to something that we think we should be able to understand. God is so much more than we can understand and we're being arrogant if we think we can discount Him because we can't figure Him out. My association with organized religion is over, but my faith came out of the pain I've been through. I wish the same for you.

What the hell?

Hmm. It's been awhile since I last posted. I just checked a link to my blog and it was nothing but a blank screen. I've been silenced. How odd.

Mr X just left to go back to work for another shift. His brother was here for the past couple of days and he just left, too. So it's just the critters and me again. At some point today I'm going to have to muster up the energy to go and fill my car with gas. I looks gloomy and cold out there, so I'd just as soon stay inside, but I'd rather get it today than tomorrow on my way to work.

We had Chaeli for the weekend while Nyk and Miles went to the Big City for a concert. She was so much fun, as always. Charlotte had a vet appointment yesterday so Mr X and I took Chaeli along for the ride. She loved the vet's office with the animals and related supplies. She rearranged a shelf of cat food while I was paying the bill. It doesn't take long for a toddler to ruin a display. It's quite remarkable. We saw the biggest rotweiller ever -- the thing was huge. His owner said he was good with children so I let Chaeli pet him. They really liked each other and it was definitely an awwwwww moment. Dog owners are good people for the most part, I've decided. Charlotte spent the entire 40 minutes skulking around with her tail between her legs. She doesn't care much for the vet and she was not in the mood to visit.

Grey Cup game today. I could not care less. Montreal and BC. Whoop. I have no idea who to cheer for. Perhaps I'll cheer for BC's kicker because I like him. In any case, I'll be watching by myself, so I'll probably be surfing ebay at the same time. Maybe I'll find the down jacket that has been eluding me. I just got some fabulous boots and two skirts off of ebay last week. I LOVE the boots. Now I have to get the perfect outfit to match.

21 years ago today

It seems like yesterday yet it seems like 100 years ago.

21 years ago tonight I was in the hospital awaiting an induction of my baby that was 2 weeks overdue. I received the gift of my first (and hopefully last) enema. Too much fun that was. The next day I was hooked up to a machine and I waited. My friends came to visit. The doctors came to visit. The nurses checked endless streams of paper in hopes of signs of labour. At 6pm, with no contractions and no labour in sight (1 whole cm dilated, woohoo) the doctor broke my water and went home. At 6:42 pm Nyk was born, seconds after the doctor rushed back in and before her dad arrived. So after an extremely long pregnancy and an extremely short labour, Nicole Angie entered the world, teeny, screaming, purple and perfect.

She's still teeny but doesn't scream much. She was purple again once, when she stopped breathing during a febrile seizure at 9 months, but she's usually a nice healthy colour now. And she's definitely still perfect.

Nyk. What a girl. Growing up in the shadow of Michelle, the athletic, outgoing older sister, couldn't have been easy. It was so easy to blend in and sometimes almost disappear. I failed Nyk so many times by not putting her in the spotlight because she seemed to not want to be celebrated. I think I would do things differently if I had a do-over, but then again, I wouldn't change the woman she is today.

Nyk was such a good child -- never talked back, never had a temper tantrum, never wanted us to fuss over her. Nyk was reading by 4; reading to other kids in her kindergarten class when the teacher had other things to deal with. When she was very young, under 2, she liked to repeat long words. I would say things like Afghanistan, Mahatma Ghandi, Taj Mahal, Mississippi, and she would repeat them and we would laugh. It was so cute -- this teeny tiny little girl saying such big, big words, her enunciation almost perfect.

We went through hell and back when Nyk was in her middle teens, some of it her doing, some of it my fault, some of it out of our control. But she made it through. Did she ever.

Tomorrow Nyk will be 21. She is doing exceptionally well at her job, climbing the management ladder, handling groups of people and awkward situations every day. I couldn't do her job, so I really admire her strength and diplomacy. Nyk has a daughter, our beautiful Chaeli. She has a wonderful guy. She just bought a house. She bought a car last month. Sure, we help her out when needed, but she gets the things done that have to be done to accomplish her goals. It'll be fun to see what she has planned next. Whatever it is, she'll do it, and then she'll be on to the next goal.

Happy Birthday, Ms. Nyckee. We are so, so proud of you!

Godspeed, Mary Martin

Heaven is now a little brighter because the earth has lost a ray of sunshine. They buried Mary Martin in a little graveyard in the countryside in Alberta today.

Mary spent almost 90 years here, giving, laughing, loving, praying; making a difference in the lives she touched. Mary was a cousin of my dad and a best friend to my mom. When I was a child we lived, for a time, across the street from Mary. I loved to go over to her house and visit with her while we worked in the kitchen. I banged on her piano in the basement and she'd tell me how nice I played, even though it must have driven her nearly batty. I remember watching her while she worked in her home -- I was in awe of Mary. Her voice, especially her laughter, was like music. She made everything fun and she cared so, so much. When one of my brothers had a run-in with the law in his teens, it was to Mary's home that he went to work out his problems. Mom says that Mary has had a special place in her heart for him since that crazy time that she helped him through.

Mary's only claim to fame, that I can think of, is that she was once the mother-in-law of Tantoo Cardinal, an actress who was in Legends of the Fall, Dances with Wolves, and who-knows-what-else. I don't suppose fame mattered much to Mary, though. Her family mattered. Her faith mattered. Her friends mattered. She often told me, "I've known your mom since she was 17 years old. We've been friends practically our whole lives." Just imagine, knowing someone for so many years, through the births of their children and grandchildren, the deaths of their husbands and the loss of so many, many friends. They had a car accident on Whyte Avenue in Edmonton a couple of years ago, Mary driving, that bumped them up a bit, but left them even closer, I believe. I think they actually enjoyed the adventure.

I moved away from Edmonton about 7 years ago and nearly every time I went back I'd see Mary at our old church. She'd worm her way through the pews to come give me a hug and tell me how good it was to see me again. She had such a way of making me feel like I was her very favorite person. I'm sure she made a lot of people feel that way. As soon as I'd walk through the doors I'd look for Mary. She never failed to melt my heart. When I was a kid she seemed bigger than life, but she was a tiny little woman at the end. I've wondered for years how it would feel when she died. How bizarre to think that I'll never see her again.

But what a wonderful life. What a wonderful woman. Goodbye Mary Martin. I'll miss you.

Bring on the white stuff

Today it snowed. A lot. Well, last night, actually. This morning we woke up to our first snowfall of the season and it was a doooozy. I shoveled my ass off for 1/2 hour before work and an hour this evening and I still have one driveway to go. It's very pretty, but really, really heavy.

I also got stuck twice today. Once at a stoplight -- a sweet guy behind me pushed me out -- and 5 minutes later when I tried to pull into my spot at work. That time my coworkers, who were helping another stuck coworker get unstuck, shovelled and pushed me out. I would feel stupid, but I have never seen so many stuck cars in my life as I saw today. It was almost funny. I prayed all the way home and I made it without further incident. Tonight it's supposed to drop to minus 18, so all the ruts will be frozen solid by morning. Fun, fun, fun. I don't know why it makes me so mad. It happens every year, but every year I get pissed right off. Winter sucks. Although the shiny black Skidoo in the garage has Mr X praying for snow, so I could blame this all on him.

Mr X's stepdad is having back surgery in Saskatoon today. I was going to go see them (stepdad and mom) but the weather is too crazy. Perhaps tomorrow. I hope it all went well for him. Mr X was going to call tonight and see, but I haven't heard anything yet.

Got the boots, got the boots, got the boots!

Finally, finally I found my black tall boots for this year. I've been looking EVERYwhere, including ebay, and I was willing to pay whatever they cost to get the right ones, and today I finally found them. At Winners, can you believe? And on sale for $50 bones. Woo! I'm so happy. So I'm set for footwear this winter. Well, at least I will be when my tan ebay boots come in. Whee!

Mr X and I went to the Big City today, to the Snowmobile show. It was fun, but we didn't buy anything there. Mr X should have bought a helmet, but he says he's saving his money now. He'll wear his fur hat instead. He's so cute.

Mr X and I dragged Chaeli around our backyard in her sled today. No snow, but she didn't care. She laughed and yelled, "Weeeeeeeee, weeeeeee!" for about an hour. She had the full winter garb; mits, balaclava, you name it. She could hardly see. We had so much fun. Just wait until it snows. We'll hardly notice driving over the frozen dog poo when there's snow.

Gotta go. Mr X is off the phone and it's movie-time. Happy day!

Let it roll (do do do do do do) down the highway

So many miles since I last wrote here.

Last Friday I went to Turtleford for Mr. X's cousin's funeral. It was a cold, sad, infuriating funeral. It was a JW plug and nothing else. The speaker started his spiel by saying that W (the deceased) would not be referred to (in his speech) as one of Jehovah's witnesses because he had not made the commitment. He mentioned this several times. Oh, W had the chance to be a J-ho, but he didn't act on his chance and too bad, so sad for him. Good thing that all the good J-hos in the audience know the truth and too bad, so sad for the rest of us who don't. So, that was it. No eulogy for a wonderful young man who deserved so much more of a sendoff than that. Not a song, not a hymn, not a tear was shed. The man got up on the podium, gave his condemning speech, sat down, and that was the end of the service. Oh, I don't care that it was a JW plug, especially. I would have been just as horrified if it had been a Mennonite plug or anything else. The thing is, W wasn't JW. So, why honour his memory with something he didn't practise, or apparently, even support? It's been a week and I'm still kind of pissed. It was good to see W's parents though, and I'm glad I went nonetheless.

Anyway, Saturday I drove up near Flin Flon to finally see Mr. X's mine. It's about 6 hours each way and by 10am Sunday I was on my way home again. It was fun to go and see his workplace and meet a few more coworkers. I even drove one of the cooks home on Sunday and we had a nice visit. I drove right over a prairie chicken. Bam. Poor little bugger. There were 3 of them evenly spaced across the highway, so I had nowhere to go. I was going about 130 and I aimed and hoped for him to go under my car, because he obviously wasn't going to move. But that didn't work out so well for the chicken. I felt so mean. I told the cook, how sad that 3 chickens went out to search for food and only 2 were coming home. Wah. The cook said, "If Mr. X had hit the chicken, he would have stopped and picked it up for dinner." Always thinking, that man.

Mr. X is home now and tomorrow we're going to drive into Saskatoon for a snowmobile show. Yeah, we just bought a snowmobile, but now we need to see all the fun accessories so we can have something else to need. If nothing else, it will be fun to take a little road trip together, maybe have dinner. And hopefully hit a couple of stores so I can continue my search for the elusive perfect black boots.

And another thing. Something I just read reminded me of this, and we recently had this discussion at my office. There are basically 2 kinds of people in this world; those who want the best bed and those who want someone else to have the best bed. It all started because one of my co-workers was upset that one of her siblings took the best bed before she got there when they went to visit their parents. I said I would want my sister to have the best bed even if I did get there first. She called bullshit and said there is no way I would happily take the lesser bed. I said yes, indeed I would. And the discussion ensued. Of the 5 women at the table, there were 3 who would prefer to give up the better bed and 2 who would take the better bed if they got there first. Not that I'm right or she's wrong, but I would absolutely feel terrible if I knew my sister (or whomever the other guest might be) was sleeping uncomfortably while I was basking in pillows and fluff. Is it because I'm a younger child (in the list of children in my family, I mean) or because I'm a Virgo? Or because the other woman has a better sense of self-worth? Who knows. But I can now predict, with almost 100% certainty, who would chose the better (or lesser) bed when asked this question. Just different kinds of people. And the world, indeed, needs different kinds of people.